


Moonlight Sonata

by artscomplex



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angsty Stiles, F/M, Fluff, Hidden Talents, Loneliness, Mention of Death, Moonlight Sonata, No Smut, Piano, Piano play, Secret Crush, Spying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24340171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artscomplex/pseuds/artscomplex
Summary: In which Stiles, after all these years, still tries to cope with his mother's death.He wishes he could play his mother's favourite composition to her one more time,but she is no longer here to listen.But somebody else is.
Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s), Stiles Stilinski/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Moonlight Sonata

The first time the overflowing beauty of the piano play ripped the girl out of her reality, melodies dancing through the hallways in the empty school, it was by accident.

An afternoon like many, the teenagers all gone except for those who stayed in school of their own free will for god knows what reasons, those who had to take their courses, or those who had to receive their detention, like her.

Though the moment the piano melody ringed through her ears, she couldn’t help but immediately want to know who was able to create something this beautiful, stopping her in her own actions to just listen to the harmony.  
By every time the person hit a piano key, she put a step closer to follow the direction where the sound came from.  


Corridor through corridor, seeking for whoever was responsible to carry her in another world.  
She stopped infront of the doorframe of the school‘s music hall. The massive black painted wooden instrument - she had seen and listened to countless times in school - on its usual spot. Perhaps never had she quite heard a talent this outrageous on it before.  
A tall figure in a slouched posture stood infront of it, not bothering to sit down. The male was poking and pressing the keys, as if he was only playing it like, well, an instrument. Though it sounded nothing like just an instrument. The easiness he played with, increased her awe for the boy. She leaned closer into the room, trying to catch a glimpse of the talented one.  
  
Messy brown hair stood in every direction, suiting his creased white T-shirt, and tired eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, brows burrowed in concentration.  
A heavy slam to the piano keys woke her from her trance, suddenly the melody taking a scandalous turn. It turned from slow and even kind of melancholic to wild, and witty, just like the boy in the middle of the empty room.  
His chapped lips twitching into a smile as he thrusted out the new melody and - not able to control it - her lips followed his actions, amazed at the sight which made her lose track of place and time.  
  
  
The second time she caught the sound of the classical composition was when she mopped the floor of the school, the consequence she had to take from not appearing to detention. Perhaps, it was worth it.  
Her hips lightly swayed to the rhythm, or rather trying to, since she was probably the most unrhythmical human being alive. Closing her eyes, she pushed the broom closer to her body, gliding through the hallway as if she was dancing in the early romantic centuries.  
  
  
The third time her ears had caught the hums of the song, she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination. Curiously, she looked around in the crowded classroom, seeking for the continuing humming.  
A messy mop of brown hair was recognizable in the seat to her right. The boy hummed the rhythm into the air as he scribbled doodles into his sketchbook, not caring about the teacher who‘s highest priority was attention.  
Nobody but her ears seemed to catch the boy who was swaying his pencil to the melody, which seemed to be always stuck in her head.

He put down his blue pencil, his eyes gazing out of the window as his fingers tapped on the wooden desk. She was watching his rough fingers - the ones she had weirdly been attached to over the days - sliding and gliding around the table as if it was the black piano, until suddenly the teacher slammed a book infront of him.  
The boy nearly jumped, shocked at the annoyed teacher who didn’t receive the boy’s attention, though it felt as if nothing but his secret passion seemed to receive it. Awkwardly, he slumped further into the seat as the teacher stomped away.  
  
  
The last time she spent her afternoon in the school - which she usually tried to avoid at all costs - she had no reason to be there. Simply the fact that she could catch the messy boy losing himself in the instrument moved her to come back here, and secretly admire him.  
  
Hiding behind the wall next to the doorframe of the hall, she sat on her bum, her knees in her arms. She rocked herself to the slow music. What her unmusical ears caught for the first time was, that he played the same composition, over and over again, every afternoon.

What was the reason he hid himself in the empty hall to play an instrument, all lonely, as godly as he did?  
What was he hiding from, when all the audiences in the world shall hear this masterpiece?  
Curiosity or wonderment, whatever it was that caused her to risk her secret amazement, she turned her head to catch another glimpse.

Other than the first time she caught him, he was sitting now, his back more straight and his posture showing extreme confidence. His calloused fingers flew over the piano keys, sure about himself but his touch still light, as if he was scared to break the instrument.  
  
She felt as if the music notes were flying around the room, emotions and passion spurting in every direction. Leaning her cheek to the frame, she noticed how much more of an emotional player he was now. Head down, fingers gliding over the keys, may even making the componist jealous of his wonder-creating hands.  
As the melody grew quieter and it slowly died down, the boy gently moved his arms off the piano, her heart nearly skipping a beat. His eyes opened, body ready to leave when he caught the girl sitting on the floor.

The shock caused him to nearly fall down the stool - again - his arms catching himself on the piano at the right time. She casually stood up, watching his clumsily self straighten his clothes and turn, looking very confused at the secret listener.  
  
  
“Don‘t stop,“  
She forced, not yet wanting the piece of art to end, “please.“  
Anxiety pumped through his veins, as the girl he never saw before strolling his way.

“W-Why?“ he asked, his rough voice more beautiful to her than every composition she had ever heard.  
She didn’t know why, so she didn’t answer. Her hand slowly caressing the keys she would be never able to play, she questioned him finally,  
“Why are you always playing the same thing?“  
  
Silence. His chocolate eyes, which usually loved to avoid eye contact, dared to look at her caring ones, “Moonlight Sonata, Beethoven. Only one I can play.“  
His confession questioned her even more, “Why the only one?“  
“Was my mom’s fave, you kno’? And the only one she taught me before-“  
  
He shut himself off, hoping she didn't catch on what he was about to say. Never had any of his friends asked nor noticed about a passion of his, now somebody has, he completely destroyed the situation. But she noticed.  
  
“I am sorry about your loss,“ she put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm the anxious boy, and change the topic,  
“why do you play it at school?“  
“Can’t really afford this thing, so uh, sneaking in here from time to time after lacrosse training,“ he drives his calloused fingers through his messy hair, “gotta take care nobody catches me. Guess I failed.“  
A giggle left her lips,  
  
“You’re an idiot for hiding, you got more in you than you think.“  
Heat rose to his face, hand rubbing at his uplifted nose in nervousness. He definitely wasn’t used to compliments. “You think so?“  
The girl bites down on her lip, hoping not to scare him away with her words,  
“I always sneak in here just to listen to you playing.“  
  
If his face wasn’t red enough before, it was now. "Do you…" He gazed back at his hands, his voice leaking nervousness,  
“Do you want me to play again? Tho, I can‘t play anything else?“

The boy looked up at her in hope, making her even more excited about the melody she knew by heart already, “Always.“


End file.
